ridiculous, honestly
by grimoires
Summary: John got drunk, hungry, arrested, and pushed down stairs all in one night. Dave wasn't really surprised.


a/n: I meant to post this forever ago but it kept slipping my mind.

In retrospect, asking a cop if he was a dirty dogfucker and attempting a highly dramatic exit move that was more a half dance, half fake karate combination than anything, probably was not his best idea. But like, that guy totally needed to get a sense of humor anyway so who is the one committing the real crime here, officer? Not the guy with a perfectly legal sense of humor, that's for sure.

John contemplates this, and the totally sick moves he would have nailed if he had been just _slightly_ more sober, while he waits for Dave to pick him up from jail.

He's kind of surprised Dave even agreed to bail him out in the first place. He's chalking it up to his amazing charisma and skills of persuasion. It probably didn't have anything to do with Amy's own skills of persuasion he had heard going on in the background of his one phone call, or Dave's kind of pitiful knack for being a bit of a pushover.

Really, he and Dave got arrested a lot less then they'd expected to in their lives. John likes to think he's making up for teenage ambitions for both of them. He also likes to think the other people he was thrown in with at current weren't mostly smelly and drunk, but. He'd given up on attempting to convince his fellow jailbirds to sing a mournful jig or drag a cup along the bars once he had been sure Dave would show up. Also, the cops refused to give him a cup, like, what the fuck? These were some shitty ass cops who obviously did not appreciate his _amazing_ humor.

Oh, hey, is that Dave's voice?

Head popping up from where he'd let it loll against the wall, John listened closer to the end of the hall.

"….yeah he's just down here. Ya sure you want to take him back with you?"

A familiar, world wearing sigh makes it way to his ears and he makes his way to the front of the cell joyfully.

"Unfortunately, yes." Dave replies and John see him come into sight. He looks like he had just rolled out of bed, threw on the nearest clothes, and used his hand for a comb. Considering the time, that was probably accurate.

"Dave! Great timing. Actually, horrible timing, I was just about to demonstrate to my new buddy Rob over here," John adopts a rougher tone, jabbing a finger over his shoulder towards a man slumped over in the corner attempting to ignore everyone else. "What happens when you fuck with a man like me, and let me tell you, this guy was crazy, spitting out how he would fuck this poor motherfucker's," John points again in a vague direction to the other two in the cell, "Mother and shove gravel up her nose if he didn't give him the best seat in the cellblock, and all this kind of horrible shit, really, so I was like, hey! Dude, not cool. Being my heroic self, I of course was about to take appropriate action-"

"John, fuck, that didn't happen." Dave groans lightly and the cop looks ready to pop a vessel in his face.

"It did! You weren't here, Dave, what would you know? You just barged in on my heroic moment."

"I'm sure," He says dryly, giving the cop a long suffering look and waving his hand. "Yeah, that's him, can we hurry this up?"

The cop didn't look too happy, but grunted and said he'd be back with the key in a minute.

John turns to Dave fully in the meantime, leaning on the bars. "So, here we are. Why'd you come?"

Dave rubs at the bridge of his nose. "I couldn't just leave you in here with an 'a night locked up will do you good' excuse, because we all know it wouldn't really deter you at all."

"Who's we?"

"The whole fucking universe and every passing one, John." Dave looked back down the hallway. "Y'know, it's kind of weird the cop didn't have a key on him already. Like, really weird. I didn't just walk into some fucking. Fucked up trap did I? Because I swear to god, John," Dave's phrases were obviously lacking coherency and John almost felt bad for waking him, but like hell he planned to stay in a jail cell all night with people who wouldn't even sing with him.

"Nah," John waves his hand flippantly. "That guy just has some beef with me now, probably didn't want to think you'd actually get me out. Why would he think that?"

"Why indeed," Dave grumbled. "What the fuck did you do anyway?"

John opens his mouth to respond but Dave's hand comes up as soon as he does. "No bullshit, I'm too tired for this shit."

John shrugged. "Got drunk. Followed Molly around. No idea where she ran off too, by the way, but I'm sure she'll show up eventually. Implied that a cop would enjoy having mommy-daddy-time-horizontal-tango with our dearest dog. Meh."

Dave stared at him. His expression was dull in the way that said he wasn't exactly surprised but more pathetically used to things like this.

"I would have got away, but in my defense, having this massively huge penis makes it hard to move quickly sometimes, which I know you can't really emphasize with considering your micro meat stick, but for us heavily endowed men, it can be a REAL hassle and-"

Dave turned on his heel and was already half way back down the hall before John cut himself off.

He pressed his face as close to the bars as possible, stretching one arm out and making a grabbing motion in Dave's direction. "Dave, uh, forgetting someone? I'm sorry about those things I said about your penis. Your penis is a very respectable size, and when in comparison to my dick even an elephant trunk can seem small."

Dave stops. He sighs. He looks around for a moment before spotting the vending machines and making a quick beeline for them. The cop comes back into the hall, and after a quick glance at Dave, fucking _finally_ comes to let John out.

John half-heartedly calls after Dave again, but he figures it's obvious now that Dave isn't going to leave without him and he doesn't have to sleep in a jail cell, so he just stands by the bars and waits for the cop to finish his way to over while Dave buys himself a snack. Or something. He hopes Dave will share with him. Who is he kidding? Of course Dave will share with him.

The cop is mumbling something but John's tuned him out by now, instead focusing on the bars themselves and slipping out as smoothly as possible when they are opened. He flashes a shit eating grin at the cop and moves as fast as he dares down the hall towards Dave.

"Hey, did you get any Trail Mix?"

"No," Dave replies, turning around and grabbing John's shoulder. He jerks the bag of potato chips to draw John's attention to it before steering him towards the door. "And you can't have any of these, either."

"Like fuck I can't! I just got out of jail, Dave," John puts on an exaggerated betrayed expression. "How heartless can you be?"

"Extremely, I'm told." Dave looks immediately less tense as they exit the building and the glares of various cops that had the misfortune of having to work the night shift. "Get in the car, I want to go home."

John perks up. "Me too."

"John…." Dave warns.

"Come on, Dave," John punches at Dave's arm once they've slid into their respective seats. "Amy misses me! I'm sure she does. We don't get to sleep together often enough." He wiggles his eyebrows at Dave, just in case the pathetic innuendo goes over his head.

Dave sighs – again, is he ever not sighing? John's pretty sure he could making a drinking game out of it, or more aptly a trip to the ER - "Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Great!"

"Just don't hog the covers this time," He mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket to tap carefully at the screen. He slips it back into his pocket after a moment and turns on the car. "Amy says you're grounded, though. Whatever the fuck that means. I'm not sure I want to know what it means."

"Wellllll," John leans over the armrests towards Dave. Dave glares at him from the corner of his eyes as he puts his car into drive. "I could explain it to you, if you want, I'm sure you wanna."

"I'd rather you not."

"Buzzkill."


End file.
